


Lost and Found

by gaytriforce



Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Fandom, Simonverse | Creekwood Series - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Angst, Boys In Love, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gay, M/M, Rated T for language, Simon and Bram, Spierfeld Week, creekwoodverse, mlm, simonverse - Freeform, spierfeld
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27958538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaytriforce/pseuds/gaytriforce
Summary: A few iconic scenes from Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda- told from Bram’s point of view.
Relationships: Simon Spier/Bram Greenfeld
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> Most of this dialogue comes directly from the book. All of these characters and ideas belong to Becky Albertalli.

“Hey,” A voice says from somewhere behind me. “Looks like this is yours.”

I turn, and Simon is smiling at me so self consciously that my heart stutters for a second. “Oh,” I say, like an idiot. “Thanks.” I glance down at the perfect grade on my paper and feel myself blush. It’s a little weird, having him see my grade, like worlds colliding. We don’t really talk, outside of the occasional hello or thank you. And we’re definitely not friends.

Like I said. Weird. “No problem. I mean, I’d keep the grade if I could.”

He sort of quirks the corner of his mouth up, like a smile, but just for me. And I have to smile back and look away, because really, he’s just too adorable. If I looked at him any longer, I’d probably say something stupid.

But maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

***

Simon is gay.

Simon Spier, of the hipster glasses and twinkle eyes, is gay, and I had to hear it from Garrett.

I don’t know if he told people or what, but somehow, it’s out, and Simon is too. Something tells me he didn’t mean for the whole school to find out. 

All the girls at the lunch table are acting like everything is all fine and dandy, but I can tell they’re nervously trying to make Simon feel better.

“Ew, Josh? He’s like, a super-mega-jock. That kind of guy would crush Simon,” Abby says.

“Gee, thanks,” Simon says flatly.

“He’s more Nick’s speed,” Anna jokes. Which, of course, is the ultimate worse thing you can say to a straight teenage boy. 

Nick grins good-naturedly, but he slips his arm around Abby’s waist as soon as Garrett starts talking. 

Leah’s eyes follow his arm for just a second too long. There’s obviously something going on there, but I’m too worried about Simon. I glance over at him, staring into his bottle of water sadly, and my heart clenches.

I had always kind of thought Simon was gay, but this whole time, I’d chalked it up to wishful thinking. You’d think everything would be changed, now that I know for sure, but everything’s the same. And I don’t know how to feel about it.

“We should find Leah a boyfriend, too!” Abby chirps. I wince a little as Leah’s eyes narrow in on her.

“No fucking thank you, Abby,” Leah answers brightly. She shoots a glare across the table as she pushed her chair out and leaves.

Garrett shoots me panicky eyes. I bite my lip and shrug at him. That sucks. He’s had a thing for Leah for months, and she’s clearly hung up on Nick.

“If you like her, just ask her out,” Simon says, almost sharply to me. I immediately feel my cheeks warm. He’s kind of oblivious sometimes.

***

I’m breathing hard, weaving my way in between the last set of cones, when Coach blows his whistle and we all disperse. “Look, it’s Abby!” Nick says, immediately jogging in that direction.

Garrett laughs. “Come on, Bram.”

We follow him over to where Abby and Simon are standing. “It’s weird that they’re making you try out again,” Abby comments, staring at Nick. Those two are more obvious than they think.

“I know. It’s like a formality. Kind of. Just to see-“ Garrett pauses, breathing hard. “Like, where he wants to put us.”

“Oh, okay.”

Nick sidles up to Abby, grinning. “So, what, you’re just blowing off rehearsal?”

“Pretty much. I was like, yeah, I’m gonna go ogle soccer boys now.”

“Oh, really?” He says, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing. 

Simon looks supremely uncomfortable. “So, it’s going well?”

Garrett answers for me, thank god. “Pretty well.” I just nod, like, yes, here I am as well! Participating in this sidebar!

There’s a moment of slightly awkward silence where we’re all definitely thinking that Garrett and I don’t talk to Simon much. I wish we did. “What happens if you really screw up the audition? Can they kick you off the team?” Simon asks.

I suppress a smile, but it still rises up anyway. “Audition?”

Simon blushes, a welcome sight after he’s looked so sad all day. “Tryouts.”

You’re cute,  I almost say, then I mentally kick myself, because he’s probably been getting stupid comments thrown at him all day. I don’t want him to think I’m laughing at him.

Yet, when I smile at him, he smiles back. So maybe things are at least a little bit okay.

_ I’m alone, that’s okay. I don’t mind, most of the time. _

***

“Holy fuck, Simon.” Leah and Abby are peering at Simon like he’s an entirely new person. I bookmark my page and look up.

Holy fuck indeed. 

“Don’t you love it?” Abby says. I almost answer her before I realize that she’s not talking to me. 

Simon’s eyes are carefully outlined in gray, highlighting the tones of silver. He looks... insane. Not in a crazy mad kind of scientist way. In a, “holy shit, he’s even hotter than I thought,” kind of way. It’s a little overwhelming.

“I had no idea your eyes were so gray,” Leah adds. She looks at Nick. “Did you?”

“I did not.” Well, I did, but I’ve spent a ridiculous amount of time staring at Simon. Like right now. It looks like whoever dressed him in his costume tried to tame his hair, but the messiness prevailed. I’m kind of glad for that. It’s falling in his face, and every time he runs his hand through it, I consider bolting out of the room. For my own health.

“Like, they’re kind of charcoal around the edges,” Leah says, “and lighter in the middle, and then almost silver around the pupil. But dark silver.”

She got that about right. There’s something about Simon’s eyes when he smiles that pulls people in. I don’t think he realizes how magnetic he is. 

“Fifty shades of gray,” Abby says.

Leah scrunches her face. “Gross.”

They sort of look at each other for a second. It reminds me of how I’ve been unabashedly staring at Simon this whole time. He notices me and blushes immediately. I mean, this boy blushes way too much. 

I bite my lip, embarrassed, but he only smiles at me. His eyes really are gray. It’s such a drab color, you’d think it wouldn’t look good on him, but it does. Everything looks good on him.

Garrett claps once. “So! Who’s ready to watch this Broadway-quality play, because I am 100% down.”

“It’s a musical, not a play,” Leah automatically corrects.

“Shut it, Burke.”

***

“Can I sit here?” My eyes must be so huge they’re almost popping out of my head. I almost step on my own foot.

Simon opens his eyes to look at me and smiles. He lets me into the Tilt-A-Whirl seat. My hands are shaking. “I like your shirt.” My voice wavers the tiniest bit.

“Thanks. It’s Elliott Smith.” 

  
_And every morning when he wakes, he thinks of you._

“I know.” He finally looks at me, really looks at me, and when his eyes light up I know he knows.

“It’s you,” he breathes. 

“I know I’m late.”

It seems to hang in the air over us for a split second, the sheer impact of his realization hitting me as it hits him. Then the world starts spinning.

I don’t want to stop looking at him, but I have to close my eyes. I see him holding the metal wheel still as best he can as just as my eyelids flutter shut.

My stomach turns and turns with the ride and I have to breathe deep to keep from vomiting. Through all of this, I can still feel him next to me. His knee touches mine, and I almost pass out.

It’s kind of terrifying.

Then the spinning stops, but the terror stays, at the forefront of my mind.

What if he doesn’t want me?

“Sorry,” I breathe, my voice coming out thin.

“It’s okay,” he says, then hesitates, tilting his head at me. God, he’s adorable. “Are you okay?”

No. But I nod anyway. “Yeah, I will be.” He steps out of the ride and I follow, practically onto the curb next to him. I have to explain myself, so he knows why I was late. He’s worth that. He’s worth everything. “I just got your email. I was sure I was going to miss you.”

“I can’t believe it’s you.” He doesn’t sound upset, just shocked.

I open my eyes. “It’s me. You really didn’t know?”

“Not a clue.” I turn, feeling his eyes on me, and look at him, soft and present with his messy hair and blown-wide eyes. 

He looks away, as if embarrassed, and I feel myself smile the tiniest bit. “I thought I was so obvious.” Simon shakes his head, shocked. I look straight ahead, forcing myself not to gage his reaction. “I think... I wanted you to know.”

“Then why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because,” I start, my voice wavering. I feel like I might burst into tears any moment. I breathe in deep to steady myself. “Because, if you had been looking for it to be me, I think you would have guessed it yourself,” I finish softly, still staring at the carnival lights ahead of me.

There’s a silence, halting and unsure, like neither of us know how to proceed. Then he speaks, carefully calculated. “But you never gave me clues.”

I smile. “I did. My email address.”

“Bluegreen118.”

“Bram Louis Greenfeld. My birthday.”

He looks so frustrated. “Jesus. I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not,” I tell him softly.

“I’m sorry.”

What? I’m the one who should be sorry. “For what?”

“For not figuring it out.” 

Oh, Simon. “But it would be completely unfair of me to expect that.”

“You guessed it was me,” he points out.

“Well, yeah.” I look down at my feet, trying to figure out how to explain this to him. “I kind of guessed a long time ago.” I pause, considering what I’m about to say next. “Except I thought maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see.”

His eyes are even wider when I turn to look at him. He clears his throat and looks off to the left. For a brief, fleeting moment, I think he’s going to tell me he doesn’t want me. But no. Not yet, at least. “I guess I should have shut up about who my English teacher is.”

“Wouldn’t have helped?”

“Oh, no?”

I bite back a smile and turn away from him. “You sort of talk the way you write.”

“No freaking way,” he says, and I want to laugh. He moves closer to me, so close that our arms are almost touching, and I have the urge to take his hand. I want to touch him so badly. “But how are you a president?”

“What?”

“The same first name as a former president.”

“Oh.” I’m surprised he didn’t know this. “Abraham.”

“Ohhh.” There’s another moment of peaceful quiet. Then, “And I can’t believe you rode the Tilt-A-Whirl for me.”

I breathe out, once. “I must really like you.”

He leans in toward me, anxiety present on his face, next to so much wonder and anticipation that my breath catches in my throat. “I want to hold your hand.”

_ He holds his breath, to hold your hand. _

I let my gaze rest on his face. “So hold it.”

And he does.

***

“Twenty-seven minutes until the end of lunch,” I tell him. I’m almost giddy with the readiness of the surprise. “Maybe we should divide and conquer.”

“You got it. Where to, boss?”

He looks overwhelmingly adorable in his jean jacket that I sent him to go get a pint of milk. “So, what did you get?”

I show him the mini Oreos, feeling all too pleased with myself. “Lunch.”

The look on his face is priceless.

We have to run through the rain back to the car. Simon laughs, wiping the water off his glasses with his shirt. When he pulls it up, he reveals a small expanse of flat, pale, skin, and I almost forget how to breathe.

I turn the heat on instead, smiling down at my hands like an idiot. “Abraham,” I hear, glancing over at him, sitting in the passenger seat of my car like that’s where he should have been all along.

Suddenly, he leans over the gear stick and presses his mouth to mine. My eyes fall shut right away, and I let myself be still in the moment. Feeling him. 

To me, he’s planes of messy perfection, all wrapped up in soft laughs and sparkly eyes. I graze my fingers across the nape of his neck, and it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s him, and he’s here, and he’s real. Right in front of me.

I pull back for air, and he smiles, so gently that I just want to wrap up this moment and put it away forever, so I’ll never lose sight of the time that he kissed me in my car, in the rain.

***

“I like no endings,” he tells me. “I like things that don’t end.”

_ Hanging around in the lost and found. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This little one shot was an idea I’ve had for awhile, mainly because of the eyeliner scene, but it all came to fruition on another reread of Simon. Bram is one of my favorite characters in the creekwoodverse (sorry, Reid, he’s just better at being soft) so I decided to write something from his pov. Let me know what you thought in the comments!


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